The short answer is because then I wouldn’t be an anonymous middle aged woman who needs, but doesn’t want, a job.
Here’s an irony for you. I wrote the above sentence and then gave my oldest daughter a big talk about how it’s who you are not how much money you have that’s important. She’s going to spend the weekend with young people who are far more affluent than we are and I don’t want her self esteem to suffer. She rolled her eyes and said “It’s Binky, Mom.”
His name is not really Binky, but you get the idea. And her self esteem does seem pretty unsquashable. (I also gave her the drugs lecture, in case you are wondering.)
So why would I rather be John Barrowman than myself?
Because he looks like he’s having a good time. He’s convincing in both a Scottish and American accent. He’s young and probably has enough money. Well younger than me and more money than me. It’s all relative, isn’t it? I’m sure there are people who think I’ve got it pretty easy – and they’d be right.
I have no idea if John really is having as much fun as he seems to be. Maybe he’s privately miserable. A closet whinger.
(Unlike me. I’m a public whinger/whiner/whatever.)
But I’d like to find out. Could we have a John Barrowman for a day contest? I’d love to be John Barrowman for a day. Or even hang with John Barrowman for a day. That might be even better…
This is where I’d like to post two photoshopped pictures -> one of my head on John Barrowman’s body, and one of me and John Barrowman hanging. Hanging out. Out. Not hanging. But I’m afraid if I post un-approved photoshopped pictures of John Barrowman I’d be a bad example for my children. Rats. Foiled by motherhood again.